Seconds by Heartbeats
by roverjj
Summary: Updated 5-2: Ephram is so sullen, so stoic, yet- so wounded; why? An endeavor into Ephram's past to where it all began.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. They are owned by the WB Network and the ingenious producer(s) of Everwood.

Author's Note: If you have time, please take the time to post constructive reviews for me so I can better approach the 2nd chapter. Negative or positive, I just hope you can provide some critical information such as: a) what worked well; b) what did not work well; c) what could be improved; d) your favorite/well-liked section/phrase in chapter, and why.

I hope you will take the time to review, and I hope you Enjoy!

-roverjj

Chapter 1

A bird whistled softly outside, its soft chirps floating through the air almost effortlessly. The cool breeze, no longer the harsh wintry blasts that had so long encompassed the area, rustled the leaves gently. Tinged with the knowledge of the upcoming summer, activity was bound to begin later that day. But for now, it was just silence- everyone was well asleep by now, hoarding their much sought-after sleep which was stolen during the many hours spent digging themselves and their neighbors out of the snow that had left them stranded in their house just days before. 

So they needed the sleep. And they were getting it. All of them. Except, maybe, a few.

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Slam. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Andy Brown sighed and rubbed a hand through his already mussed-up hair. "I just meant that I would go there and maybe at the same time go see her at the NYU performance at Julliard; she's been talking about it for so long and I know she'd appreciate it. It was a special invitation- I couldn't possibly refuse, Ephram. I did excise a brain tumor that would've killed her in several months if not properly and carefully removed. I don't see why you're so upset, Ephram. Really. It's just a concert."

Andy's tired gaze focused on his son, vaguely disconcerted that there was no response. He pressed his eyes and blinked several times, clearing the sleep in his eyes before speaking. "Go to sleep, Ephram. Delia will stay with you, or she could stay with Nina- you could come along with me-"

"No. I'm fine. You can go; I don't care. Delia'll be fine with me." Ephram shook his head and looked back at his father with an undecipherable expression on his face. "I'm going to bed."

The sound of the door closing none too quietly did nothing to ease Andy Brown's genuinely confused mind. Turning to go back to his room, he saw Delia standing behind him. "What was the big deal?" he asked, bewildered. "I don't get it," he murmured almost to himself as he walked to his door and shut it carefully behind him.

Delia remained in the hallway after watching her father enter his room, looking at Ephram's closed door. Her heart twinged before she returned soundlessly to her room, thinking to herself,

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He never gets it.

Ephram stared blankly at the ceiling from his bed. His headphones lay abandoned on the pillow next to him. He didn't notice, though. His mind was occupied, thoughts scrambling dizzyingly around; one barely making its presence before another took over. _"I don't see why you're so upset....It's just a concert."_ He rolled over forcefully and stuffed his pillow over his head, trying to interrupt the flow of words spinning inside. _"...just a concert..."_

His eyes popped open as his hand reached unconsciously for the headphones. Fitting them over his head, he fumbled through the c.d. tracks, randomly searching for a song to distract himself with. The whir of the c.d. player signaled that it had settled on a song. The song drifted through his head. He froze, surprised; a tight feeling began at the back of his throat as the notes played out just as he remembered them...

Ephram pressed the stop button on the player and took off the headphones. His hand shook as he brought it back to his body. He turned off the dim light, sinking the room into complete darkness. Pulling the covers over shoulders, he shook himself mentally. It didn't matter that his father would be going to that lady's concert- he hadn't expected anything different. It was just like in New York, how he remained so involved with his patients; they were always his life. It was surprising, though. He still didn't get it, why he was upset. Then again, he had never understood, and there was no reason for him to start now. His oblivion was so complete, he couldn't even notice his own mistakes glaring him in the eye.

But he knew that it wasn't his father that had caused the still-present tightness in his throat. The reason, he would prefer not to think about. So he lay, bundled under the covers, nose running, with a pressing headache sure to give him and, consequently, those close to him a hell of a time at school the next day.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. They are owned by the WB Network and the ingenious producer(s) of Everwood.

Author's Note: I've done it! It's finally updated! Bet you thought I forgot you guys, that I'd leave you hanging. Well, don't worry—I didn't; I just had to work out a few kinks in the chapter—needed to give you the best quality possible :-) So. The second chapter of my fic is now complete- with the helpful reviews and gentle prodding of Ditey and Visbot (many thanks, also, to the other three reviewers). I would have posted 5 days ago, but I had issues with my printer, which prevented me from printing out my drafts to proofread. But it now works, and I am thus handing over to you my second chapter with a hopeful heart—that you enjoy what will follow. Now, all I need are five more reviews- once I see them, I will post. So, review, folks! Read and review!

I hope you enjoy!

-roverjj

Chapter 2

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Beep. 

Ephram's hand slammed down forcefully on the alarm clock as its incessant whine continued, knocking it off his bedside table where it subsequently crashed against the wall and landed on the ground. He squeezed his eyes shut momentarily before slowly untangling himself from the covers, stumbling groggily to the bathroom and into the shower. The sudden sting of the cold needles hitting his back and running down his bare length was enough to wake him, but not enough to drive away the headache bordering on a migraine. Brushing his teeth and shampooing quickly, he stepped out and toweled off.

Aimlessly, he put on a black, unmarked T-shirt over an equally nondescript grey shirt. Pulling up his jeans with one hand, he reached with the other into the medicine cabinet above the sink. His fingers hunted around blindly as he struggled with the fastenings at his waist until they finally settled on the bottle of Advil. He popped open the top, shaking two tablets into his mouth while turning on the cold water faucet. Cupping a handful of the running water, he tipped it into his mouth and swallowed. Grimacing slightly, he carelessly ran his hand through his wet, purplish-brown hair before reaching out to the doorknob, turning it, and stepping out into the hallway-

whereupon he was immediately greeted by his father.

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Oh, joy.

"Good morning, Ephram! You know, I was just about ready to head out, but I figured I should wait for you first-"

"Should've saved yourself the trouble," muttered Ephram, brushing by him on the way to his room.

Andy's voice followed him to his bedroom, where he was gathering together his books. "I'm driving to Denver and storing the car there. My flight's at 11:05—it should last about four to five hours. Marianne-" Ephram snorted rudely, but his father was oblivious. "-will pick me up and, from there, we'll be—or rather, I will be revisiting New York City until her concert, after which I will drop by several former colleagues' offices, check up on former patients-"

"You know, Dad," said Ephram, reemerging from the room, stuffing papers into his half-open bag, "as sure as I am that the run-off of your schedule would prove fascinating beyond belief to the many Dan Rathers and Tom Brokaw mini-mes out there- _I_ really don't care." He moved past his father and trekked down the hallway towards the stairs.

Andy's footsteps echoed angrily behind Ephram down the hallway. "What's your problem with this trip, anyway? The minute I mentioned it last night, you became so- offended and upset, and now you 'don't care?' If you could've caused your own rat-sized version of Hiroshima, I'd say you probably more than qualified for 'caring.'"

"I don't want to talk about it!"

"Yeah? Well, there's definitely a problem that's not going to be overlooked just because of your newly-acquired apathy-"

"_My_ 'newly-acquired apathy?'" Ephram paused two steps down the staircase to stare at Andy, incredulous. "Don't even get me started on the subject of apathy because I've got _many_ years' worth of examples I could give you right about now."

"Forget that. It's just—couldn't you just show one ounce of civility or respect towards me on the morning I'm scheduled to leave for an as-of-yet undetermined amount of time?"

Ephram faced his father halfway down the stairs, eyes flashing. "Oh yeah—I forgot you were going off across the world as the sole member of the 'I-want-to-be-a-world-patron-like-Mother-Theresa-focusing-solely-on-the-importance-of-single-handedly-curing-all-disease-and-living-vicariously-in-a-life-filled-with-hypocrisy-and-apathy-while-excluding-the-value-of-familial-priorities' Country Club. You know what?" He raised his hands in mock defeat. "Forget it. I'm wasting breath that could be much better used discussing the ramifications of eating seriously molded bread with three month old, sun-curdled milk. So enjoy yourself on your perfectly innocent, nondescript, non-hypocritical, and certainly non-apathetic trip to Julliard."

Andy's hand slammed against the banister in anger and frustration as he continued pursuing Ephram towards the living room. "Jesus Christ, Ephram—you know, sometimes I wonder why I even try. I've put up with your- crap, day after day after day, and the least I'm asking for today is a civil goodbye! God, Ephram, do you purposefully go out of your way to make our lives, especially mine, a living hell?"

Ephram threw his bag violently over his right shoulder and glared at Andy. "It's always got to come back to you in the end, doesn't it? Let me remind you exactly who it is that's leaving us for the next week or longer. Now is _not_ the optimum time to take on the role of the self-righteous, affronted father. And as for making our lives a living hell-" Ephram chuckled bitterly, "you've succeeded at doing that all by yourself--and a fine job of it, if I may add." He turned and stormed through the kitchen, barely noticing the silent occupants at the dinner table.

"Nina made us pancakes and bacon!" Andy called out desperately to his rapidly disappearing back.

Ephram stumbled over the medium-sized suitcase and carry-on resting directly in front of the door, replying, "Have a nice trip."

Andy moved determinedly to the front door. "You need to eat something, and Nina went _way_ out of her way this morning to make us breakfast!"

"I don't want any, I'm not hungry!"

"Ephram Brown, come inside right now, sit down, and have some pancakes with us as a family!"

He struggled with the kickstand before hopping on, wobbling forward and yelling defiantly over his shoulder, "Take your family pancakes and shove them up your ass!"

"Ephram!" He pedaled furiously, oblivious to the slick, snow-covered road.

Andy slammed the door and glared at it, fuming. He finally turned towards the dinner table, forcing on a weak and defective smile that crumbled even further when met with Nina and Sam's shocked expressions—and Delia's indifferent back. Taking the forgotten frying pan from Nina's limp hand, she raised it absently in her father's general direction while cutting herself another forkful of the syrup-drenched food in her plate.

"Pancakes?"

Author's Note: If you have time, please take the time to post constructive reviews for me so I can better approach the 3rd chapter. Negative or positive, I just hope you can provide some critical information such as: a) what worked well; b) what did not work well; c) what could be improved; d) your favorite/well-liked section/phrase in the chapter, and why.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. They are owned by the WB Network and the ingenious producer(s) of Everwood.

Author's Note: Finally! I cannot even begin to express my apologies for such a late update. But between the excessive amount of work I've been getting, computer problems (which included a complete hard drive wipeout) and writer's block, I wasn't able to put this chapter together exactly the way I wanted it. A sudden spur of inspiration last week allowed me to finish the nitpicky tweaks and conclude the chapter. I thank all of you who stopped and reviewed (some even twice) before and after my hiatus; I hope this chapter will suit your tastes! And as always: reviewers, please check my profile where my reviewing requests/instructions are listed (or just check chapter 1). 

So, without further ado, I present to you: the third chapter. I hope you enjoy!

-roverjj

Chapter 3

After ten minutes of furious pedaling, Ephram decided to stop risking his neck on the icy road and squeezed his right-hand side brake. Almost immediately, his rear tire began skidding sideways, his bike moving in jagged semicircles as he tried to regain control. The slight downward incline of the street did nothing to aid his increasingly dangerous plight as the bike gradually accelerated. Muttering to himself briefly, he gave up and let go of the death-grip he had on the hand brake.

He shot forward, his precariously maintained balance threatened with each passing second. Unable to stop, he sped across the intersection and veered left amid a flurry of angry shouts and beeping horns. His momentum carried him too far towards the sidewalk that he had no chance of avoiding. Panicking, he squeezed both brakes and closed his eyes.

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Whump. 

Ephram remained motionless for a few seconds as he tried to regain his bearings. Icy slush began melting down the back of his collar, adding to the cold and wetness slowly seeping into his clothes. The shock of having his body planted so suddenly in such a viciously quick manner left him breathless and a bit—tired. He exhaled, feeling the rapidly chilled air rebound back into his face, and moved his head to the side as he began summoning up the energy to push himself to a standing position. 

His fingers were seeking some sort of sturdy surface where it would be safe to apply his weight when he felt something grab the back of his shirt collars and yank him forcefully to a standing position. He wheezed in surprise, which caused whoever was behind him to pound forcefully between his shoulders, driving him forward a step with each hit. Ephram heard a female voice say, "Cut that out! Are you trying to kill him or something?"

The debilitating pounding stopped and he inhaled thankfully. A baritone voice muttered sullenly in reply, "Sor-ry. Jeez. You'd think I was committing a crime or something, trying to make sure someone's still breathing."

Ephram rolled his eyes and shook his head as he turned to face the speakers. A tall teenager with a red ski jacket and curly blond hair squinted at him, grinning.

"Bright. Just my luck," he deadpanned.

Bright ignored his sarcasm. "Dude, you know it's, like, the wrong season to go swimming—"

Amy slapped him lightly on the arm. "Bright! Stop it!" She turned to Ephram. "We were driving by and I saw your bike laying there, so Colin stopped the car so we could check to see if everything was okay. Are you alright?"

Ephram's eyes lightened up and he smiled, amused, as she began brushing snow off his clothes. "I'm fine."

Bright nodded. "Ri-ight. Yeah. So, Amy, he's fine. Amy. You can stop grooming him now."

She glared at him before smoothing down Ephram's neck collar. "There. That's better." She looked behind her at the boy walking towards her. "Colin was waiting for us in the car. I guess we should go, or else we're going to be late."

"Oh—right. School. All ready." He jogged over several yards to where his bike was embedded in the same snowdrift. He grabbed a hold of the mainframe and tugged. It wouldn't budge. He swore under his breath as he kept pulling, bracing himself against the seat. The bike popped out without warning, making him stagger back a few steps before he regained his balance. The body was miraculously unharmed, he noted, as he hurriedly wheeled the bike to the waiting truck.

Colin was leaning against the driver's seat door as Ephram came closer with the bike. He pushed himself off the door and walked towards him. "You alright, man? Looked like it was a nasty spill." He moved ahead of Ephram to unlock the back of the pickup.

"I'm fine." He muttered tersely, bending to acquire a more secure grip on the bike as he lifted it onto the bed. Colin jumped in next to it and moved a few lengths of rope and cord over to make more room. Ephram accepted his extended hand and pulled himself into the back. Colin reached down and, after firmly closing the back, slapped the roof of the truck. Ephram gripped the side of the truck as Bright sped off quickly, veering around a few slow cars and making several sharp turns before pulling into the school parking lot.

Colin vaulted off the side of the truck and unlocked the back once again. Ephram dragged off the bike and rolled it over to the side of the school. Removing his bike locks from the pouch secured on the rear wheel frame, he fiddled with them until the frame was secure. Straightening, he saw Bright squinting at him from the tree he was leaning against. "You know this isn't New York or anything. You don't have to be so anal about locking that up like it was your baby Lamborghini parked in enemy territory. Who's gonna want to steal—jeez! Feeling violent today?" His thumb moved against his forearm as he frowned.

"Shut up, Bright." The corner of Ephram's mouth lifted at Amy's antics. Colin snickered at Bright's annoyed expression as he was pulled away by her. "See you in history!" He called out over his shoulder, before turning and chasing lightheartedly after Amy with a quickly packed snowball in his hand. The boys watched as he cornered her wiggling body and rubbed the snow gently on her nose. They could see a smile light up her face as Colin leaned in and lightly kissed the tip of her nose.

Ephram jumped slightly as the warning bell rang. He reached down to pick up his bag—and stopped. "Where's my bag?" He hit his forehead and started pacing, looking around him while trying to remember whether or not he left it at the snowdrift.

"Yo." He looked up. Bright stretched out his hand, from which was dangling his damp bag. "You almost forgot it."

Ephram looked at him, then took the bag, shrugging it on quickly. "Thanks," he mumbled.

Another bell rang. Bright looked at his watch. "I'd love to chat, but I do believe we are about to be fashionably late." Ephram groaned silently and began walking over to the front doors, patches of his wet shirt chafing uncomfortably beneath his backpack. He crept into his first class quietly while the teacher's attention was diverted, almost making it to his seat before wincing at the sound of his misleadingly exuberant, baritone voice.

"Ephram Brown. How kind of you to join us." Muffled snickers escaped from several students around the room. "Due to the timely manner in which you decided to bless us with your presence, you have earned yourself detention. See me after class."

A buzz filled the room as the students pulled out their textbooks in preparation for the class. Ephram yanked out his work and a pencil, sighing bitterly. He rubbed at his wet collar and glared unseeingly at his textbook.

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Great.


End file.
